


(maybe) it's inevitable

by pennyofthewild



Series: a series of serendipities [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Future Fic, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, University, written for souharu week on tumblr!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennyofthewild/pseuds/pennyofthewild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke ends up rooming with Nanase Haruka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(maybe) it's inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of studying for finals, I wrote crappy fic, so: have a thousand-five hundred words of crappy, not-so-shippy Sousuke/Haruka.

It is no secret that the universe hates Sousuke and is out to get him. Examples of the proof behind this include: never winning any of his battles with Rin, busting his shoulder beyond repair, and ending up at the same university as one Nanase Haruka, which wouldn’t be so bad if Sousuke didn’t have to share a dorm room with him, too.

Sousuke discovers this when he pulls open the door to his – their – room and finds Nanase  bent almost in half, pushing his suitcase into the walk-in closet, mouth tight with concentration.

“God,” Sousuke can’t help but exclaim, the door falling shut behind him, fingers going slack around the handle of his own suitcase as he adds, “ _Nanase_?”, as if to confirm that it is, in fact, Nanase, dressed in brown trousers and a blue-and-white plaid button-down (with the shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows) and not some freaky look-alike.

Nanase looks up, mouth loosening. There is a long-drawn out moment of silence, where Sousuke imagines he might say, such a big town, Tokyo – of all the places to go and people to see I run into _you_? If Nanase has retained the ability to say anything at all, of course, which Sousuke sometimes doubts.

Nanase straightens, levels his no-nonsense blue stare at Sousuke. Runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t tell me,” he says, and his voice is clear and strong, with that leaden edge to it he’s had since they were twelve years old, “you prefer the bottom bunk too.”

***

According to his degree plan, Sousuke will spend a lot of time in general courses his first two semesters. He’s not looking forward to going through Physics and Chemistry again, though he thinks he might enjoy his Math classes. He’s always liked Math.

Whoever dreamed up the class schedules must be an actual masochist, because Sousuke starts class eight in the morning four days a week, has huge chunks of free time in the middle of his day, and usually ends up trudging home with the sun, feet heavy with exhaustion.

On the upside, his crazy schedule means he doesn’t cross paths with Nanase, much; Nanase is in the bath when Sousuke leaves in the mornings, and they’re too tired to talk in the evenings, which is the excuse Sousuke makes to his over-active conscience when said conscience berates him for _not making an effort_ and _what will Rin think_.

The Monday of his third week in university, Nanase walks into his Physics class. He enters through the back door, casts a glance over the room, and walks down the aisle-steps to the empty seat in the row in front of Sousuke’s. Sousuke doesn’t know if Nanase’s seen him; Nanase walks with his eyes fixed on his feet, like he always has – not because he’s shy, but because he doesn’t give a damn.

Because the hall is set out auditorium style, with each row of seats higher than the one before, Sousuke has a clear view of the top of Nanase’s head – the whorl at his crown, the fine dark bristles at the nape of his neck. Nanase pulls a notebook and a mechanical pencil from his bag as the professor ascends the podium. He hefts the pencil in his hand, as if weighing it, before setting it to paper. For a long moment, Sousuke thinks Nanase might be taking notes: but then he shifts his arm, revealing the outline of a rainbow with the proverbial pot of gold at one end, and Sousuke finds himself breathing out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

Sousuke spends the rest of the hour watching Nanase draw.

“I switched sections,” Nanase says, briefly, when Sousuke asks. He doesn’t explain any further, so Sousuke assumes he’d had a clash, or something.

“Okay,” Sousuke says, and wonders if spending so much time in close proximity with Nanase is going to turn him into a mute. It’s not like Sousuke ever talked much, to begin with. Rin had been the talker: Rin with his long-drawn out stories and never-ending questions.

It might have been the same for Nanase, Sousuke thinks, watching Nanase walk to his next class. There is a quiet comfort in knowing the person you’re hanging out with doesn’t expect you to contribute to a conversation, unless you absolutely want to.

Rin was definitely like that.

***

The next day, Sousuke arrives in class to find Nanase is already seated, ankle crossed over one leg, pencil in hand. Sousuke slides into his chair, trying not to make a production out of it. Nanase is doodling a village street, topsy-turvy houses lining both sides of a narrow winding road. It is surprisingly detailed, for a throw-away sketch. Sousuke can almost see the colors the houses might be, the pale blue of the sky.

It becomes _a thing_ he does in Physics class: he watches Nanase draw.

***

Two months into term, the Physics professor assigns the class a group project. Work in pairs, the professor says, so Sousuke taps Nanase on the shoulder – the first physical contact they’ve had since the memorable two minutes Sousuke pinned Nanase against a vending machine in high school – and says, “might as well work together?”

Nanase looks up from his half-finished merman – it looks suspiciously like Nanase himself – and nods, eyes briefly catching Sousuke’s, and goes back to hatching scales on the merman’s tail.

It hadn’t been as though Nanase would turn him down, Sousuke thinks, leaning back in his chair, but he’s still relieved, somehow. In the time they’ve been roommates, his interactions with Nanase have been few and far-in-between. Nanase isn’t _hostile_ , but he’s _distant_ , which Sousuke thinks might be the same thing, because this is Nanase, and Nanase doesn’t do things the way other people do them.

But then, Sousuke tells himself, as the class begins to settle and the professor starts up his Powerpoint, he hasn’t done much to interact with Nanase either.

“Hey,” Sousuke says, leaning forward, so Nanase can hear him. Nanase stiffens a little – or it might just be Sousuke’s imagination. “Does he have a name?”

Nanase doesn’t look at him, but Sousuke can hear the bemusement in his voice when he replies. “No, but you can give him one.”

“Can I call him Haru?” Sousuke wishes he could take the words back almost as soon as he’s said them – he’d blurted the question out without thinking, really –

He hears a sharp exhale of breath, and Nanase turns his head, abruptly, startled blue eyes meeting Sousuke’s. He is close enough for Sousuke to see the dried-up scratch-mark on his chin, the fallen eyelash on his cheek, which Sousuke has a sudden urge to brush away.

Nanase’s throat bobs. He drops his gaze.

***

When Nanase comes in that night after swim practice – it is eight o’ clock, and his face is hooded with tiredness – he comes and stands in the bedroom door, like a specter, till Sousuke looks up from his homework. He is like Rin in that way: he acts with the expectation that his actions will be acknowledged. It is probably a side-effect of being friends with a person as maternal, and doting, as Tachibana.

Sousuke has spent the last half-hour trying to concentrate on his math homework. It’s been difficult, mainly because he’s been caught up on Nanase’s non-answer, and the faint brush of his lashes against his cheeks as he’d looked away, like a – _girl_ , like _Rin_ – in the way that makes Sousuke wish he had a way with words –

“Yamazaki,” Nanase says when Sousuke looks up swiveling his chair around to face him, “I’ll do the Physics project with you.”

“Okay,” Sousuke says.

“ – and,” Nanase takes a deep breath, “the merman’s name. It’s Haru.”

Sousuke bites the inside of his cheek. “Okay.”

Nanase looks stonily at the wall above Sousuke’s head. “That’s – that’s all.”

“Okay,” Sousuke repeats, again. He tosses his pen onto the desk and stands up, crossing the room to stand in front of Nanase. “You know, in a world where you’re a merman, I bet Rin and I would be the policemen who’d put you behind bars.”

Nanase’s eyes dart up Sousuke’s face. He has to tilt his head back, Sousuke notes, to look him in the eye. “Why – would I be arrested?”

Sousuke shrugs. “Inappropriate exposure around public water areas, maybe?”

“Maybe.” There is a sparkle in Nanase’s eyes, Sousuke thinks, which probably only shows up when he’s smiling, cast in half-shadow in the dim light of Sousuke’s desk-lamp. Sousuke wouldn’t know, because this is his first time seeing Nanase smile: a tiny uplift of his thin, shapeless mouth that makes Sousuke’s breath catch somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.

 _I can see why you’re so taken with him_ , he’d told Rin once, and maybe, in a universe where they – he and Nanase – weren’t vying for Rin’s attention, Sousuke would be taken with Nanase too. Maybe it’s inevitable that he _is_.

Sousuke holds out a hand. “Say, Haru,” he says, tasting the name in his mouth, feeling the breathy sound of the _ha_ and the roll of his tongue around the _ru_. “Let’s – let’s start over.”

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

end.


End file.
